


Black and Blue

by angstytimelord



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bruises, M/M, Possible Dub-Con, Will is in over his head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstytimelord/pseuds/angstytimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will can't fully remember what happened the night before. He's not sure he wants to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Black and Blue

Will stepped out of the shower, glancing in the mirror as he reached for a towel to cover himself with. The fleeting glimpse he had of his body made his straighten up and forget about the towel as he started at himself, mesmerized by the sight.

He had known that Hannibal was rough with him last night; the body aches he'd experienced when he'd awakened and rolled out of bed just a little while ago had proven that. But he hadn't realized that his lover had left such marks on his flesh.

There were bruises on his chest, bite marks around his nipples. Will winced as he raised a hand to touch one nipple; the small, delicate bud was reddened and sore to the touch. 

There were other bruises, on his belly, his ribs, his hips. Why hadn't he noticed them when he was in the shower? He hadn't been looking at his body; maybe that was why. He'd merely thought it was a little strange that he was experiencing such physical aches.

He'd known that Hannibal was being more demanding than usual, but he hadn't realized the extremes to which his lover had gone. He'd been so lost in the pleasure that he was receiving that it hadn't occurred to him that Hannibal was dispensing pain, as well.

The two sensations had seemed to meld, to become one.

He remembered crying out at some point, begging Hannibal to stop. He didn't remember what the other man had been doing to him, only that it had _hurt_. And Hannibal _had _stopped, though only for a few minutes. Then he'd started again.__

__Will closed his eyes, his breath catching in his throat. Hannibal had done as he'd asked, but he had more or less ignored the fact that he was in pain. It was as though Will's pain had meant nothing to him, and he was intent on his own pleasure._ _

__No, that couldn't be the case. Hannibal wasn't that callous. He had simply pushed Will past his limits, as he'd warned at the beginning of their relationship was something he intended to do._ _

__Hannibal hadn't made any excuses for his actions in bed. He had told Will upfront, the first night they had been together, that the relationship wasn't always going to be safe and comfortable. He had warned Will that he broke boundaries, pushed against walls._ _

__Will had accepted that. It had sounded .... well, _exciting_ to be with someone who had such little use for conventions, who broke new ground. But he hadn't realized that forging through those barriers meant causing pain._ _

__Still, he shouldn't really be surprised, should he? Hannibal wasn't like other men._ _

__Not that he had any other men to compare Hannibal with, he thought wryly. Hannibal was his first and only lover; no one else had ever touched him. Well, they'd _touched_ , but nothing had ever gone beyond that. He wasn't even experienced at kissing._ _

__No, he had come to Hannibal as a virgin. It wasn't something he was particularly proud of; he'd been teased about his virginity unmercifully when he was in college, and beyond. But it was something that he had held on to, determined to give it to the _right_ person._ _

__He didn't know if Hannibal was the right man to have surrendered himself to. But Hannibal was the man he wanted, whether the relationship was good for him or not._ _

__Somehow, that didn't seem to matter. All that mattered was that Hannibal brought out a side of him that he hadn't known existed, a side that reveled in the pleasure that his lover gave him, a side of him that was wild and abandoned and that reached out for his own destruction._ _

__In some ways, Hannibal scared the hell out of him. But he couldn't break away from this man even if he had wanted to. Hannibal held him in thrall; there were so many new feelings and sensations to explore that he couldn't walk away from what the other man offered._ _

__What was a little pain compared to those new experiences?_ _

__Will frowned as he stepped closer to the mirror, his dark eyes widening as his gaze moved lower. His thighs were black and blue; obviously, Hannibal been much rougher than he'd realized. He didn't know if his ass sported bruises as well, but it definitely felt as if that were the case._ _

__The Will Graham he'd always thought he was would never have let anyone manhandle him like this. No one would have gotten close enough to him to leave bruises like this. But he was quickly discovering that the Will he thought he was had started to disappear._ _

__With Hannibal, he became a different person. Someone who would let himself be used, even if meant pain, because he knew that the pain would be followed by pleasure._ _

__At the moment, Will wasn't sure whether or not he actually liked the person he was becoming. How could he have let anyone, even Hannibal, do this to him? His body looked like a punching bag that had gotten far too much use recently._ _

__Maybe Hannibal hadn't realized how rough he was being. Maybe when Will went downstairs and saw his lover before he left for work this morning, Hannibal would apologize for last night, tell him that he was sorry he'd left those bruises._ _

__But somehow, Will doubt that very much._ _

__Hannibal wasn't the kind of man who apologized for anything. He wouldn't feel that those bruises had been mistakes; he would feel that they were there for a reason, though Will couldn't see it. Unless Will brought the subject up, Hannibal probably wouldn't remember they were there._ _

__But he would, Will thought with a sigh. He would have to deal with the discomfort of those bruises all day long, and for several days after this._ _

__And knowing Hannibal, there would probably be more bruises to follow. Will had noticed that he had been more unrestrained lately whenever they had sex -- which was often. He doubted that his fragile body could keep withstanding that escalating roughness._ _

__He wanted to believe that Hannibal didn't realize he was being so thoughtless, but if he was honest with himself, that probably wasn't true. If there was one thing he knew about his lover, it was that Hannibal rarely ever did anything without a reason._ _

__Obviously, Hannibal had known that he was leaving those bruises. He had known that Will wold be black and blue in the morning. He had more than likely planned it._ _

__But why? What reason would he have for being so brutal?_ _

__Will had no answer for that, and he was almost afraid to ask. Hannibal wasn't the kind of man that anyone questioned about his intentions; and a question like that, coming from him, would likely have him turned out of Hannibal's bed for good._ _

__That was the last thing he wanted; the thought of not being with Hannibal made panic rise in his throat in a silent scream that he didn't dare let come out. He couldn't exist without Hannibal. Without his lover in his life, he would go back to being who he was before._ _

__He would go back to being bland and boring, invisible except for his unusual empathic ability. There would be no one in his life who considered him special, no one who could give him the physical pleasure he needed, the release his body craved._ _

__He didn't want to become that person again. He'd never liked that Will Graham much; he'd never been very comfortable in that skin, living that life._ _

__No, that person couldn't come back. Will wanted him to be gone forever. He wanted to be the one who Hannibal chose to be with, the one who Hannibal lavished his attention on. It didn't matter if that attention could easily veer from pleasure to pain._ _

__He _needed_ what Hannibal gave him, both the pleasure and the pain._ _

__Did he love Hannibal? He wasn't sure of that answer to that question. What they shared might not be love, but they assuaged a mutual need in each other, one that neither of them could satisfy with anyone else. He and Hannibal needed each other._ _

__Will didn't know which one of them needed the other more, and he wasn't going to contemplate that. It was enough for him to know that the need existed._ _

__It didn't matter if Hannibal got a little rough once in a while, he told himself firmly. He could deal with being black and blue every so often if it meant that he could satisfy Hannibal and keep his lover by his side. In the end, that was all that really mattered._ _

__Turning away from the mirror, he reached for a towel to wrap around his waist. He wasn't going to look at the bruises again; he didn't need to see them to know that they were there. They would be a constant reminder of Hannibal and of what had transpired the night before._ _


	2. Marked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bruises Hannibal leaves mark Will as his.

Hannibal leaned back in his chair as he heard the water in the shower turn on; Will had undoubtedly finally awakened for the day. He wondered what the young man would say when he looked down at his body and saw the aftermath of last night.

The bruises he'd left on Will's body were proof of his ownership, nothing more. They would be repeated, night after night, each time they were together.

Will Graham belonged to him. And if he chose to mark his possession, then he would do so. Will really had no say in the matter; it didn't matter to Hannibal whether the young man wanted to be marked or not. He would be, and that was an end to it.

The bruises on Will's body almost made him shiver with delight; it had felt wonderful to put them there, to see them blossoming and darkening areas of Will's pale skin. They had made him feel deliciously powerful; he'd known that he was asserting control.

That control was intrinsic to their relationship.

Will woudln't understand that, not for a while. He would think that he was somehow an equal, that the two of them were partners. But Hannibal knew better. He was the master, and Will was his submissive. Will had no control in any way.

If Will thought that he would ever be an equal in this relationship, then he was sadly mistaken. Hannibal knew that he had to disabuse the young man of that idea quickly, before Will became intractable and much harder for him to control.

At the moment, he held the reins. But he knew how easy it could be for Will to wrench them from his hands, even if only for a brief time.

Will was his weakness. He always would be. It was difficult for him to be brutal with the young man; even in the moments when he was causing Will pain, he would always pull back, be sure that there was no serious harm being done.

After all, he didn't want to break his favorite toy too quickly.

What was the use of having a lovely toy to play with if he broke it too soon? Will _would_ be broken at some point, Hannibal told himself with an inward smile. And he would enjoy that breakage; he would spend quite a bit of time admiring his handiwork.

Then would come the long, complicated task of rebuilding Will, of putting those broken pieces back into place as Hannibal saw fit. It would take a while, but he was a patient man. Putting Will back together again would be a challenge, one that he was sure he could meet.

Just thinking of Will made Hannibal smile; no one else had the power to do that for him. Thinking of Will could always brighten his day, even when the young man wasn't here.

He _would_ be here soon enough; he would come down the stairs, dressed to go to work, his dark curls still damp from the shower, his skin glowing. Hannibal couldn't take his eyes off Will in the mornings; he was an irresistible magnet.

He wanted nothing more at those times than to take Will back to bed.

But, of course, he couldn't do that; Will had to go to work, and he had responsibilities, as well. He would have to be patient and wait until the evening, or possibly the night after that. But Will would come to him again soon, naked and expectant.

And then he would give his boy all that needed -- and wanted. Yes, Will wanted what Hannibal did to him; he might deny that he craved those bruises, deny that heeded to be taken and marked. But Hannibal knew that Will hid a dark side that he couldn't deny.

Will needed what the two of them did together just as much as he did, if not more. He filled that emptiness in Will's soul, satisfied that darkness with him.

Those bruises would be a reminder to Will of just what their relationship was, of just how much he needed to be dominated and controlled. Will might not like to admit that fact, but it was the truth -- and Hannibal would make him see that fact and admit to it.

It was just another way of marking Will Graham as his own.

Seeing those bruises every time Will took off his clothes gave him a feeling of power such as he'd never known before; even killing, snuffing the life out of a human body, didn't give him the same rush that seeing the bruises on Will's pale flesh did.

He loved knowing that Will was marked as his, loved knowing that he had mastery over this beautiful young man. No one else had ever given him that kind of power; everyone in the past who he'd tried to exert that mastery over had struggled against him.

That had necessitated getting rid of them. But Will .... Will was different. He accepted that mastery; being owned, being marked.

Will didn't fight him. Will simply let him take what was his, let him do what he wished, and submitted to it. Will even _enjoyed_ what was done to him, even when the pleasure Hannibal gave him bordered on pain and even crossed over that threshold.

Will was made for him. He was destined to be marked by Hannibal.

There was nothing so satisfying as knowing that he could have all he wanted, at any time that he wanted it. There was no feeling as intoxicating as knowing that he had such power over Will, that the object of his desire would fall at his feet.

Will would come to him any time that he wished. The young man was under his spell, enthralled by him, mesmerized by the physical rapport they shared. He had never known the sort of physical release that only Hannibal could give him; he was enraptured by it.

How much longer Will would remain under that spell, Hannibal didn't know. But for the moment, he could enjoy Will's submission to the fullest.

And he certainly intended to do that, he thought, flexing his hands. He would enjoy leaving more dark bruises on Will's body -- and he would enjoy the tears that those bruises engendered. He would drink in Will's pain like a fine vintage.

Will was even more beautiful when he was helpless and crying.

Just the thought of seeing Will in such a submissive state made the breath catch in Hannibal's throat; for just a moment, he didn't want to let his young lover leave to go to work today. He wanted to lock Will in his bedroom and keep him there for the entire day.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't be possible, and he knew it. But come the evening, he would be able to enjoy Will once again. No, he wouldn't let the young man go home tonight.

There would be no escape for Will Graham. Not tonight, and not the next night, either. He would spend those nights here in Hannibal's home, in his bed, in his arms, accepting the marks that Hannibal left on his body and becoming even more in thrall to him.

Hannibal couldn't hold back a smile of satisfaction at the thought. He couldn't wait to put more bruises on that beautiful body -- bruises that marked Will Graham as _his_.


End file.
